by Jae
Silence spread between them.
"Her main character is a lesbian Wrasa?" Jennings laughed. "Are you sure you aren't her informant?"
Wolf humor! Griffin thought again. He didn't get the importance of this revelation. "We need to talk to Allison DeLuca again," she said. "She had to know that the novel is lesbian fiction. Do you have any idea why she hid that very important information from you?"
"She didn't," Jennings said calmly.
"What?" Her fingers almost lost their grip on the phone. "You knew? Then why isn't that information in your report? We could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble if —"
"No. It changes nothing," Jennings interrupted.
Griffin pressed her fist into the pillow, fluffing it with more force than strictly necessary. As a straight man, he wasn't aware of the peculiarities of lesbian fiction. But why hadn't he ever asked her about it? Why hadn't he wanted her to know? "Of course it does. It drops the threat level to almost nothing. Ms. Price's book will be published in a niche market. If she's lucky, she'll sell one thousand copies. There'll never be a large audience, a fan club, or a movie. It's not even sure it will ever be published."
"Even one thousand copies are one thousand too many," Jennings said with steely determination. "It would take just one human getting suspicious when Ms. Price's description of shape-shifters fits his weird neighbor just a little too well. If the book is published, it could cause a chain reaction of rumors, suspicions, and investigations. We can't take that risk. We have to protect our people."
He's trying to manipulate me, appeal to my protective instincts, Griffin realized. She knew all the tricks of manipulation. Still, it didn't mean he couldn't be right. The Wrasa had based their lives on a fragile balance, which could easily be destroyed forever. Gathering more information couldn't hurt.
"Besides, I told you before that her book is not really what's important." Jennings's growl rumbled through the receiver. "Ms. Price still has information about us that she shouldn't have. She might have connections to an inside source, and she's not afraid to go public with her information. She's a threat!"
"I don't think there is an informant," Griffin said and patiently laid it out for Jennings. "There's no Wrasa scent around Ms. Price's house, no e-mail or phone contact, and no notes on any meeting with a Wrasa informant. Leigh checked out every Wrasa that Ms. Price ever came in contact with." Well, everyone but two. She had e-mailed back a "kiss my ass" when Griffin had told her to investigate Rhonda and her mother. Leigh's loyalties were to the pride first and foremost, so it hadn't surprised Griffin. Another computer specialist had confirmed Martha's and Rhonda's claim to hardly know Jorie. "If anyone gave her information about us, I'm sure Ms. Price isn't aware that he's not human. We should call off the investigation."
Her breathing caught in her chest while she waited for Jennings's answer. She didn't have to wait long.
"Call it off? Great Hunter, no!" Jennings's voice cracked with the force of his determination. "There are too many inconsistencies to just let it go. If you're reasonably sure there's no traitor — or at least no one we can get a hold of — then your next task is to destroy the manuscript, including all the backups, and kill the writer."
The little hairs on the back of Griffin's neck tingled. She realized that she hadn't been prepared for that order. "Kill her?" she croaked through a constricting throat. No. This wasn't right. "Now we're already killing people because they have the bad luck to just guess right or for being very intuitive?"
In the past year, there had been a few times when she had thought the kill order had been given too soon, too lightly. The maharsi had always been their early-warning system. With them, being overly cautious hadn't been necessary, because the maharsi let them know what to do and what to avoid, which humans might be a danger and which weren't. Now every little thing could turn out to be a threat. They had lowered their standards in what they perceived as a threat, and the measures they took in keeping themselves safe had escalated.
At first, Griffin hadn't been sure whether it was her own thinking or the rest of the world that had changed. But now they had crossed a line.
"Guess right?" Jennings repeated, a low growl in his voice. "You saw for yourself that she gets too much right for it to be mere coincidence."
"And that's reason enough to kill her?" Griffin's own voice got louder too. "And then next time, we'll go one step farther and kill a human who gets just a few details right. Where will this end? Do you want to kill off all writers of paranormal fiction?"
"Rubbish! You have your orders, Saru!" Jennings said, the authority of a long line of Saru officers in his voice.
This was one order that she didn't want to follow blindly. "I think we need more —"
"More what?" Jennings interrupted. "More time? More information? We don't have any more time, and you've been there for two weeks already without getting any useful information. How much longer do you think she'll believe you're a wildlife biologist on vacation?"
He was right, of course. Jorie wasn't stupid. She wouldn't believe that a forest ranger had more than three weeks off in a row. Still, the decision to kill a human should never be made lightly — and it wasn't Cedric Jennings's decision to make. She knew how the Saru chain of command worked, and Jennings, while aiming high, was still not at the top of the hierarchy yet. "I don't think there's enough evidence to make such a decision yet. Shouldn't you discuss it with your superiors and the council first?"
She held her breath until he finally answered, "I will. But don't get too comfortable in that hotel the council is footing the bill for. Continue your investigation. And be ready to execute the kill and get out of town as soon as I call."
"Understood," Griffin gave the only possible answer to a direct order. Jennings's last words echoed through her mind for the rest of the night.
CHAPTER 13
THE MOIST SOIL felt good under her paws as she stalked up a hill, carefully setting each paw so she wouldn't rustle the leaves and scare away the deer that was browsing just a few trees away.
She froze, one paw inches from the ground, when the deer lifted its head and stopped chewing. The deer's ears turned, but not in her direction.
Her own ears swiveled.
Someone was breaking through the undergrowth, trampling on branches and leaves.
Human!
The deer dashed away, disappearing into the forest.
Her muscles tensed. She wanted to give chase, but her survival instincts were stronger and told her to stay and hide from the human. A snarl of annoyance pulled her lips back. She crouched down on her belly, her fur almost blending in with the fall leaves.
Human footsteps on the forest floor came closer.
She got ready to sneak away and vanish into the forest when the wind turned and carried the scent of the human to her. It was a familiar scent — and one she didn't like. Her muzzle opened in a low growl, revealing long canines. Her paws flexed and unsheathed long claws. She longed to leap out from under her cover and drive the human from her territory.
The rational part of her held her instincts in check. She ducked beneath dense shrubs.
The human passed within two feet of her, never knowing she was there, just a few paw lengths away.
Easy prey.
She lay in cover, her sharp gaze following his every move as she had the deer's before.
Without any awareness of the danger he was in, the human bent down, picking a wildflower here and there. Slowly, he wandered out of sight.
Her tail twitched as she fought the instinct to follow and hunt him down. Only when she couldn't see or smell him any longer did the urge lessen.
Slowly, careful not to slip into hunting fever, she stalked the human, following him to the edge of the forest. A snarl vibrated through her chest when he walked toward one of the houses, but she stayed back, hiding behind a tree.
A small something dashed through a shrub close to her.
Prey.
Her powerful muscles
bunched. She almost pounced, hungry and irritated.
At the very last moment, a familiar scent drifted up to her nose. It evoked an image of coconuts and a walk through the forest in springtime. Inches from the smaller cat, she stopped and chuffed a greeting at it.
The startled cat hissed. It backed away and, as soon as it was a few feet away, turned and ran back the way it had come.
Once again, she fought down her hunting instincts and stayed where she was. She sat down and washed herself, wetting her paw to clean behind her ears. Only when she was calm enough did she return to the place where she'd left her clothes and called up the image of her human form to initiate the change.
Pain shot through her. She hissed. The cold air made her shiver as her fur receded, and finally, Griffin stood naked in the cover of the trees.
* * *
Jorie groaned when the doorbell rang. She had enjoyed the companionable silence in the living room, she writing and her mother reading, but now they were about to have some company.
"I'll go," Helen said. "I have to get ready anyway."
"If it's anyone but Griffin, tell them I'm not here," Jorie said. Truth be told, she wasn't overly eager to see Griffin either. After last night, she needed some time alone. She felt guilty about it, but she was looking forward to having the house all to herself again. Still, Griffin had earned the right to visit whenever she wanted.
As soon as her mother got up, she dismissed the interruption and focused on her writing again.
* * *
Griffin slipped into her clothes and threw a glance at her pocket watch because she knew she often lost track of time in her animal form. The quick glance confirmed that she had only ten minutes before she had to be at Jorie's to say good-bye to Helen — not enough time to return to the bed-and-breakfast for a shower, but she also didn't need to hurry over to Jorie's nearby house just yet.
Cushioned on a mossy spot beneath a tree, she settled down for a few moments and tried to piece together the dreamlike images of what had happened while she was in her cat form. She had gone out for a prowl through the forest in her animal form, hoping it would allow her to clear her head.
If Jennings asked, she would tell him she had scouted around for the hunter's lookout about which Jorie had told her. It was the truth, just not the whole truth. High up in a tree, hidden by dense foliage, she had finally found Jorie's writing place. The lookout still carried Jorie's fading scent, but she hadn't detected the scent of a fellow shifter anywhere nearby.
Instead, a deer had caught her attention. The excitement of the hunt still vibrated through her blood, but she knew she hadn't captured her prey this time. Something unexpected had happened. A human had entered the forest.
The scent of disinfectants and an accompanying image flashed through Griffin's mind. It was Dr. Saxton! She tried to remember what he had been doing in the forest. The memories of her cat form showed her the white, yellow, and violet wildflowers in his hands. "He was picking flowers," she realized.
Then she remembered the overwhelming urge to hunt him down and chase him away or maybe even hurt him. That strong instinct confused her because she had never experienced something like it before. Her animal form knew that the Se-asrai, the humans, were trouble. She had never been tempted to hunt one of them. As long as they didn't run, they were safe.
Dr. Saxton hadn't run. He had ambled through the forest and hadn't done anything that her cat side might have considered a threat.
Wrasa didn't pick flowers, and they didn't like humans picking flowers just to put them into a vase until they withered and died. Wildflowers belonged into forests and meadows, not living rooms. Still, Griffin had encountered flower-picking humans before, and her cat instincts had always made her hide and avoid them, not want to stalk and drive them out of her territory.
She still had no answer for the puzzling impulse when she realized she had to go or she would miss Helen. Jorie had called earlier and had asked if she wanted to come over to say good-bye to Helen before she left.
Emmy, the calico, was lying in front of the house when Griffin walked up the driveway. The fall sun warmed the cat's fur, and she squinted lazily.
For a moment, Griffin wanted the same simple pleasures — a spot in the sun and not having to continue this troubling assignment. But when she took another step, the illusion of peace vanished.
The cat saw Griffin and darted under Jorie's car, where experience had taught her she would be safe from bigger predators.
Griffin vaguely remembered that she'd had an encounter with Emily while she had been in her animal form. It seems calicos really are lucky cats, she thought with a smirk. She was lucky that she didn't end up as my between-meals snack. She chuckled as she remembered that she had chuffed at the cat, expecting Emmy to return the friendly tiger greeting. The cat, of course, hadn't.
"You're probably traumatized by now, little sister," Griffin murmured. First Emmy had caught her breaking into Jorie's house, and now a giant liger had almost eaten her.
Trying to calm Emmy, she slowed her steps and crouched down in front of Jorie's car.
* * *
Helen stepped around her packed bag. After a quick glance through the peephole, she opened the door.
A tall man stood in the doorway, a bunch of wildflowers, surrounded by ferns, in his hands. His smile turned into an expression of confusion when he saw her. "Is..." He cleared his throat. "Is Ms. Price here?"
Ah, this has to be the admirer that Griffin mentioned. His nervousness and the sweet gesture of bringing flowers made Helen smile. Jorie had said she didn't want to see anyone, but Helen didn't want to send the poor man away after all the trouble he had gone to. "Just a moment, please. I'll see if she's receiving visitors," she said, feeling like some medieval maid.
"Jorie, there's a flower-bearing admirer at your door," she informed her daughter in the living room.
Jorie took her hands from her keyboard and rubbed them over her face in frustration. "Tell him... tell him I already went to bed because I'm not feeling too well."
"He's a doctor, sweetie," Helen reminded. "He'll want to come in and treat you if I tell him that."
Dark eyes stared up at Helen. "How do you know he's a doctor?"
"Griffin said — oops, I wasn't supposed to tell you about that." She gave Jorie a sheepish grin. "Please don't be mad at Griffin for telling me about your secret admirer."
"Good thing you didn't go out for breakfast with Griffin again today. I might still have some dignity left," Jorie grumbled.
Helen studied her daughter. At times, Jorie was hard to read even for her. This time, an almost imperceptible softening around her mouth told Helen that Jorie didn't really mind her spending time with Griffin. Jorie had accepted that she would likely come up as a topic in every conversation between Helen and Griffin. "The doctor and his flowers are still waiting," Helen said. "Do you really want me to send him away? He seems nice."
Jorie's fingers played with the touch pad of her keyboard.
What is she waiting for? Does she expect one of the heroes from her books to materialize and sweep her off her feet? Helen wondered. The familiar feelings of worry and confusion tightened her throat. She has never shown any interest in going out and meeting men. Sometimes I wonder if —
Jorie's resigned nod interrupted Helen's thoughts. "He is nice," Jorie said, "but if I let him in and accept the flowers, he'll think I want to date him."
"And you don't," Helen finished what Jorie hadn't said.
"I don't."
The doorbell rang again.
"It seems you have more suitors than I gave you credit for," Helen said with a smile and went to open the door again.
* * *
"How's the head?" Dr. Saxton asked while they waited for the door to open.
Griffin's lips wanted to lift in a snarl, but she forced them to form a one-word answer instead. "Fine." After shifting into her animal form and back, she was hungry and irritated and didn't want to make small talk wit
h the doctor. Even the scent of the wildflowers in Dr. Saxton's hands was beginning to annoy her.
Footsteps from inside interrupted the awkward silence.
It was Helen who opened the door. She smiled when she saw Griffin. "Come in," she said.
Ha! A triumphant smirk crept onto Griffin's lips as she was willingly let in while the doctor had been kept waiting outside the door.
Apparently, the doctor decided the invitation was meant for him too. Both of them followed Helen into the living room, where Jorie had curled up with her laptop.
The bare feet and the tussled hair transformed Griffin's smirk into a softer smile. Sometimes, Jorie reminded her of a cat, so maybe there was a chance that she was part Wrasa.
Jorie looked up. Her glance darted from Dr. Saxton to Griffin, then drilled into her mother. "Hi, Griffin, Dr. Saxton."
"Jake, please," Dr. Saxton said. "I know I should have called first, but I was taking a walk, and when I saw the flowers, I thought of you." He extended his armful of flowers.
"Uh... thank you," Jorie said. "That was very nice of you."
I have to get out of here, Griffin thought as she watched Jorie take the flowers. I have to eat something. Without some food in her stomach, she didn't have the patience to watch human courtship rituals.
Jorie stood from the couch and walked across the room. Lifting up on her tiptoes, she stretched her lithe body to reach one of the vases that she kept on top of a bookshelf.
Griffin's gaze followed her movement, and a second later, she became aware that Dr. Saxton was watching Jorie too. A snarl sneaked up her throat, but she held it back. With iron self-control, she forced her gaze away from both Jorie and the doctor.
What's going on? She usually didn't feel this mix of protectiveness and irritation, unless... Is this why I wanted to attack him and drive him away earlier? Does my animal form see him as a rival? But that makes no sense. Jorie is human, and I'm not attracted to humans. I've never even been friends with a human. Get yourself together, and stop this nonsense.